


So we'll live-- and pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.

by tomisweets



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Gen, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Tales from the Shadows (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:43:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomisweets/pseuds/tomisweets
Summary: All Emet Selch wanted was some peace and quiet for himself, but the young child Hythlodaeus has brought along has other plans. With him, follows glee, laughter, and the end of days. Takes place after Emet-Selch has taken his place among the Convocation of the Fourteen.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	So we'll live-- and pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.

“What’s that?”

“That, little one, is the bureau of the administration. It is where the creation of concepts are overseen.”

“What’s that?”

“That is a bench, an ingenious concept that allows one to continue rhetoric in good company without the aches of standing.”

Emet-Selch scrunched his already closed eyes, the voices completely breaking the peace and serenity he once had in the park. The one explaining things was particularly irksome, considering it belonged to his closest companion Hythlodaeus, of whom Emet was sure had deliberately made his way here. The other voice was much higher, with the kind of curiosity in the mundane that newly born children had. He opened his eyes a crack, ignoring the radiance of the aether above and setting his gaze down to the two cloaked figures nearby.

“Who’s that?” The much smaller ascian asked, pointing towards Emet himself.

“That is  _ the Architect of the Convocation of Fourteen, denizen of the Underworld, the honorable and most eminent  _ Emet-Selch.” Hythlodaeus answered. Emet could almost see his smug grin behind that white mask of his, knowing he purposely stretched the title out as far as it could go. He rolled his eyes, barely able to keep in the groan of displeasure at his friend’s irritating introduction as he heaved himself off of the ground and onto his feet.

“Emet-Selch is fine enough, Hythlodaeus.” Emet retorted. “One would think the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect would be too busy with their projects to take on the role of a guide, and yet here you are…”  _ interrupting my idle time, _ were the words left unspoken as Emet glared between the two. Even if he only roused himself to work on projects worthy of his attention, there were still only a few moments in the day that he could actually spend on himself.

“One is never too busy to nurture curious minds.” Hythlodaeus answered with a grin. “Especially one such mind as Icarus, who as of late has been frequenting the Bureau of the Architect and asking after concepts.”

At this the smaller moved closer, the white mask on his face doing naught to hide the sparkle in the child’s eyes. “Hythlodaeus tells me that the Convocation of the Fourteen are the greatest mages in Amaurot. Does that mean you’re stronger than even Hythlodaeus? Can you make a butterfly like Hythlodaeus made?” Icarus asked, approaching closer with each question and nearly bursting with anticipation.

Emet stared for a moment at the child, then at Hythlodaeus, who had an equally wide and annoying grin on his face. Clearly the two wouldn’t be leaving him alone until he did  _ something  _ for the boy. With a sign and shrug of his arms, he looked pointedly at Hythlodaeus. “An old concept like that? Hythlodaeus, I thought you said you were trying to  _ teach  _ the child something,” Emet responded, effortlessly snapping his fingers. Soon after, butterflies appeared on the tip of his finger, spreading their wings and flying one by one away from the source, until there was all but a kaleidoscope of butterflies in the park.

The awe in Icarus’s face was filled with unbridled joy, as wings of blues, purples, oranges, and yellows danced through the air. The mask over the child’s face did naught to hide the wide smile that engulfed his expression, and as the butterflies fluttered closer, Emet could hear the rings of genuine and earnest laughter. With the swarm around them, the little cloaked figure twirled and danced and spun himself around enthusiastically, his black robe reflecting the kaleidoscope of colors from butterfly wings, creating a new pattern entirely on his clothing. 

“Amazing! Wonderful! This is fantastic!” Icarus exclaimed between giggles, his small arms reaching up high to the sky where the butterflies flew. As he reached up, one with big, glittering blue wings fluttered down slowly, until it settled down on the young one’s nose. The surprise seemed to jolt the child, and had it not been for the fluttering of wings around them, Emet would have sworn time stopped with how still Icarus had become. Emet watched with some amusement at how the child’s arms slowly and carefully lowered, a stark juxtaposition to the bubbling energy he had been just a moment prior, as the butterfly’s wings slowly opened to cover the young amaurotine’s face.

After a few gentle flutters of glittering blue wings, the butterfly flapped its wings and ascended with the others, flying high into the air and Icarus spun around again and again, dizzying himself with laughter and delight. Only when he stopped twirling did Icarus set his sights on the Amaurontine that brought this to life.

From behind the mask, Emet could see brilliant blue eyes that sparkled with awe and elation, accompanied by the brightest smile he’d ever seen on another’s face, as if Icarus had never seen anything even half as fantastic.

Emet-Selch of the convocation of the fourteen couldn’t help but crack a smile in return at the infectious joy the child held.

As the butterflies began to disperse, Hythlodaeus looked down to the little one, beckoning him back with a smile. “Come, there is much and more of the city for you to discover, and I’m sure the Architect is a very busy man.”

Icarus nodded, rushing back to Hythlodaeus’s side and taking his hand. But not without turning his head back and using his free hand to wave enthusiastically towards Emet. “Goodbye Emet-Selch! Thank you for showing me something amazing!”

Emet found himself raising a hand in parting, watching the two figures slowly disappear further into the city, and once more settled down into the tranquility of the park, the dance of the aether now accompanied by the trailing flutters of butterflies.

* * *

“Emet-Selch! Emet-Selch!”

The young child’s voice cut through the tranquility again, spurring Emet from his rest as he heard quick footsteps crunch through the grass of the park. He hadn’t bothered on getting up, considering that the moment he opened his eyes, Icarus was already standing over him with a wide smile on his face.  _ So much like Hythlodaeus,  _ he thought to himself, knowing just as well that Icarus wouldn’t leave without a response just as his companion normally did. Doubly so, considering that Icarus was only a child, and did not realize the extent of the role placed on a member of the fourteen. He sighed, figuring that Hythlodaeus seemed to  _ conveniently  _ forget to teach the child the importance of manners, and spoiling him already by granting much and more of his time to the child.

“Do you need something?” Emet asked, not bothering to hide the displeasure in his voice, a hint that the child shouldn’t bother others without a reason.

“Look!” Emet only had a moment to tilt his head up to see Icarus fully before the child placed something on the Architect’s folded hands. “They’re a new creation from the bureau that are soft to the touch and yummy to eat! The architect that created the concept called them ‘sweets’! Try it! Try it!”

Emet-Selch certainly didn’t need to test the creations of other architects, but given Icarus’ insistence over it, it wouldn’t hurt to try it. Begrudgingly, Emet sat up in the lawn, inspecting the food first before taking a cautionary bite.

The texture was soft and spongy, easy to chew and even easier to swallow, and the taste was sweet and pleasant on the tongue. While it wasn’t the most exceptional concept ever created, he could see how a child like Icarus would enjoy such a thing. Speaking of Icarus, despite the fact that the child hadn’t so much as uttered a word, the expression of curiosity and bubbling need for Emet’s thoughts were more than apparent in his face, and his tense body language showed that he was doing all that he could to keep from bursting forth with questions.

Were he a cruel man, Emet would have stayed silent to see how long a child of curiosity could endure. Instead, he showed mercy to the child and let his thoughts be known. “It tastes fine.”

A broad smile filled Icarus’ face as he took Emet’s answer to be in agreement with his own thoughts. “It’s a great concept right? I’ll borrow the concept and create my own! And then tomorrow I’ll bring more for you to try!”

Before Emet could even get a breath in, Icarus had darted off towards the building in question. And, true to his word, Icarus found Emet the next day, offering a host of sweets for Emet to give his opinion on, ranging from the one exactly alike to the first concept, to those that were sweeter, and those that were crunchier. And when Icarus exhausted the more obvious limits of a concept, Emet would give him guidance towards the thinking of less obvious limits, until he also all but exhausted those creations. And once the limits of a concept were completely spent, did Icarus find himself a new concept to show Emet, and so the cycle would repeat.

And thus did the days continue like this. Emet would allow himself a break during the mid-evening light every so often, and Icarus would join him in the grass, updating him on new concepts, and learning to make concepts better or more efficient, all with Emet-Selch as his mentor.

“... and it’ll move mountains and mountains of earth, such that the plants will all be nurtured by the same soil. Oh! But it won’t shake the ground as it moves the earth! It’ll be gentle, and one wouldn’t even know it’s there!”

“A gentle earth mover... Are you going to petition it for an application?”

Icarus quickly rolled over in the patch of grass he laid upon, raising his upper body with his elbows as he looked at Emet with wide eyes. “For an official concept? Do you think they’ll take it?”

“You’ve memorized the entire library of concepts and yet you ask this?” Emet sighed, shaking his head. Despite the chiding tone, Icarus smiled gleefully, encouraged by Emet’s words.

The boy all but sprung to his feet, excitement filling his frame as he exclaimed, “I’ll ensure it becomes a concept for the library!” before rushing off towards the Bureau of the Architect. Emet cracked another soft smile as he watched the child go, waiting until he turned the corner and ran out of view. The architect then frowned, lying back down and watching the aether dance above, left alone with his own mind to think about solutions to the current dilemma the fourteen were facing… 

* * *

“Grandpa Emet. Grandpa Emet!”

The young child’s voice resounded through the air, breaking Emet-Selch out of his midmorning daze. As always, Peter had appeared without much warning, the child’s innately keen senses allowing him to somehow find the ascian even within the shades of Rak’tika, where Emet sat and monitored the warrior of darkness.

“Look! Look! I found it moving the ground!” 

The disgust on Emet’s face was completely apparent, but it didn’t stop Peter from showing him the earthworm wiggling in his dirt-caked hands. Still, the excitement in the way Peter wanted to share everything he obtained (from sandwiches and spriggan chocolates to… this), to his childlike wonder and glee with the world around him; it all elicited a forlorn fondness that Emet hadn’t felt in eons. A dim and muddled feeling, just as dim and muddled as the aether above. 

“...Thank you… Peter.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some background:
> 
> I made my WoL Peter the younger brother of my friend's WoL. Peter just ends up being this indestructible, little ball of sunshine, seven year old boy who follows the WoL around while getting into his own shenanigans. Written for Latte, who taught me to love this rat man through their Architect Emet-Selch. Thank you Latte bby!!!
> 
> Please also take a look at the wonderful art Latte made for this story! https://twitter.com/chelonate/status/1175648528632180736
> 
> Thank you all for taking the time to read this self-indulgent story.


End file.
